


Son of Storms

by theskywasblue



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: F/M, Family, Mother-Son Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-21
Updated: 2010-05-21
Packaged: 2017-10-09 15:21:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskywasblue/pseuds/theskywasblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would become of her son, she wondered...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Son of Storms

It was the time of year for storms, when the doors and windows of the castle had to be closed tight against howling winds while streaks of lightning lit up the night sky at irregular intervals, and low rolls of thunder seemed to reverberate right through the castle walls.

Rasetsunyo watched the approach of the first low storm clouds of the rainy season on the horizon through the nursery window while her son slept, wondering when the storm would strike. If she closed her eyes and took slow, deep breaths she was sure she could hear the raucous sounds of her husband and his soldiers in the dining hall below through the stone floor– drinking and dining, fighting and howling, celebrating Gyumaoh's latest conquest.

Idly, as she watched the storm's approach, Rasetsunyo wondered if her husband would come to her that night when the banquet was over, or if he would prefer the company of his newest concubine; she knew that much of her usefulness as queen had come to an end with the birth of their son, and she couldn't bring herself to regret the loss. There was very little to miss in the roughness of Gyumaoh's hands, in his demanding, self-centered nature. Truthfully, he preferred pain to pleasure, violence to love.

Rasetsunyo looked back at the cradle, at the tiny baby swaddled inside and felt a cold blade of dread run through her chest. What would become of her son, she wondered; what horror awaited the child she had struggled to carry through months of sickness, who had been born gasping and pale but fought for life despite that his tiny body looked too small to even bear the weight of the air, let alone the weight of the name his father had finally agreed to give him?

She knew that in time her husband would try to rob their son of all his kindness, of the innocence Rasetsunyo could see all over his soft baby face. Over time, the son she loved would be transformed into something like his father – dead-eyed and heartless.

Surely those hands, those tiny, soft hands, would be forever too small to hold a sword. If Rasetsunyo could have bundled her precious baby up, spirited him into the safety of the desert night and away from the storm settling over the castle; away from his father's rough hands and the duties of the crown; away from the eyes of the gods themselves, she would have done it.

It would have been better, she thought, for him to have been born a farmer's son than the son of Gyumaoh.

The heavy, night-black clouds that had settled over the castle ramparts split suddenly, with a roar like a war cry, and in his crib Rasetsunyo's sleeping son woke with a start and a terrified wail. She went to him immediately, bundled him carefully into her arms. His tiny fingers tangled in the folds of her silk robe as she stroked his feathery vermillion hair to soothe him.

"Hush my love, my little one, my Kougaiji," she cooed mindlessly until he fell into something near silence, fidgeting with hunger until she offered him her breast. With her son nursing Rasetsunyo walked back to the window, looked out at the stormy night, and, not for the first time, was terribly afraid.

-End-


End file.
